


Fine Specimen of a Man, A

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 15:16:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11338095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder awakes and discovers himself imprisoned in a cell with a naked Krycek. Written for the 'trapped in a small space' challenge.





	Fine Specimen of a Man, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

A Fine Specimen of a Man by Sue

Many thanks to the wonderful people who beta read this puppy. Your efforts are greatly appreciated even though I chose to ignore some of your spelling corrections. (I'm a Brit. It's the Queen's English. What more can I say?)  
A specially thank you and bouquet of virtual roses goes to Bron2 for the time and effort invested in our correspondence. (Virtual hugs and kisses are thine. You'll be hearing more from me later babe!) This lady is a very talented writer and one day she *WILL* share her stories with us. Anyone have any ideas how to help someone lose their story posting virginity?  
Bron2, Just Do It!!!!!!!!!!!!  
Content/Copyright Warning: This is a M/K (m/m) PWP so delete this puppy now if that's not to your taste. CC invented them and shouldn't produce eps. like Tunguska if he doesn't want us to play with them like this. I'll put them back after I'm done, a little tarnished maybe but at least I've left them whole and alive.

Enjoy and Indulge.

* * *

A Fine Specimen of a Man by Sue  
  <>

Tentatively Mulder opened his eyes; a bright blurry image swam before him. As his eyes came into focus he found himself staring at the white peeling paint of a brick wall about two feet from his nose. His head pulsed as if someone had mistaken it for a football, though for the life of him he did not know why. Pushing his fingers against his temples offered no relief so he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Dry heaves wracked his body as he leant forward gagging on the smell of stale urine and mildew.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, *FUCK*,' his whole body screamed.

Sitting up, he feebly kicked out at the wall in frustration. Nausea overwhelmed him again. Slumping back, he fought to control his body, trying to suppress the reflex to throw up.

When his body finally stopped convulsing he peered down at himself. How long he had been here he could only guess. His well-tailored suit was creased and grubby, indicating the passage of at least several days. Did anyone miss him yet? Were his fellow agents searching for him? He succumbed to a momentary pang of self pity.

'Scully's probably glad I'm gone. I've been such a prick lately.' He ran his fingers nervously through his hair. 'As for Skinner, well who knows what he's thinking lately. The bastard's been acting like he's joined Cancerman against me'

'Oh come on Mulder,' he chastised himself, 'don't be so moronic, of course they'll notice you're gone. Scully'll be frantic with worry. She's probably searching for you right now, putting herself in danger.' The thought, while reassuring, stung.

Mulder pulled his jacket tighter as the cold air in the room bit at his skin. He was exhausted and felt completely drained of energy. The ache in the pit of his stomach told him he hadn't eaten in days. Food of any description sounded rather appealing; even the thought of those wretched Dunkin' Donuts made his mouth water.

He examined the room more carefully, trying to glean any data he could about where he was and who had brought him here. It proved a fruitless exercise. The cell was barely large enough for its contents; a door at one end, a pail at the other, and the cot he sat on pressed up against one wall between them. He leant forward, resting his head on the peeling wall, half resigning himself to his fate. Rivulets of water slid down the wall wetting his face and hair. He didn't move; the water felt cool on his pounding head.

Silence.

Shaking himself mentally, wanting to keep his wits sharp, he tried to retrace his steps and remember how he'd gotten here but the effort proved futile. It just made his head ache harder, so he surrendered and left the next move to his captors.

******

The door swang open suddenly, somebody stumbled in, and before Mulder could do more than stand, it swang shut.

Another slice of hope died.

His gut contracted as he realised he was face to face with Alex Krycek.

Krycek was naked but his body was dressed with a lattice of cuts and bruises. He stood awkwardly, his shoulders slumped, arms dangling, obviously in pain.

'So forlorn,' was Mulder's next thought.

'No, no, no, no,' his mind screamed. 'Don't go there.' But it was too late, his body had already begun to betray him.

'Why can't I get you out of my mind, or my life,' Mulder pleaded with himself. He knew it was futile, his mind couldn't help but drift back to the time he had spent with Krycek before the betrayal. Krycek had seemed so innocent, yet he had sold out Scully. 'Why didn't I see what was happening? Was I unwilling to see?' Mulder swayed slightly, squinting his eyes as pain stabbed at him inside his head. 'Why couldn't I stop Krycek? Was I blinded by something as wretched as desire?'

What fantasies he had had. Alone, lying on his couch, listening to the sounds of night, his hand stealing down to his cock to satisfy that which he repressed each day on the job. He would close his eyes and imagine it was Krycek's hand or Krycek's mouth or Krycek's ass.

Mulder looked intently into his enemy's face but saw nothing but hurt and misery and helplessness there. He was almost overcome by the impulse to reach out and comfort Krycek; to relieve the pain of his wounds.

'STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT. This man murdered your father.'

Mulder's head sagged.

Violent shivers began to course through Krycek's body and he sat suddenly on the edge of the cot, his legs no longer able to support his weight. A slight sob escaped his throat.

Looking up he smiled ruefully at Mulder, as though begging for something with his doleful green eyes before he lay back on the cot and rolled onto his side facing the wall. His long slender arms reaching round trying to shield his body from the cold.

Hesitating, Mulder was not sure what to do. All this man deserved was his hate but a pang of guilt caught him by surprise. The scars and sores on Krycek's lean body attested to a horrendous beating. No human being, however treacherous, deserved to be treated like this.

Mulder joined him on the cot, wrapping his arms around his fellow inmate, shielding him from the cold; persuading himself they had some silent pact against the unseen others who had placed them here.

*******

Much later when the tremors that had wracked his body had abated Krycek turned awkwardly around until he faced Mulder. The two men gazed at each other for a moment. Cupping Mulder's face, he gently leaned forward and brushed his lips across Mulder's. Mulder's chin sagged with shock at Krycek's brazenness and he tried to pull back. Krycek clasped the back of Mulder's head preventing him from retreating further, placed his lips to Mulder's and pushed his tongue into that wet warm mouth.

Mulder's mouth tingled as Krycek's tongue deftly explored him. His body responded and to his surprise he pushed his own tongue into Krycek's mouth. It felt delicious and Mulder whimpered softly. Krycek smiled, his own body responding to Mulder's change of heart.

In such close proximity Mulder could feel that Krycek's cock was hard as stone and he trembled with desire at the knowledge.

Krycek's fingers deftly danced down Mulder's clothes, unhooking buttons, belts and zips. Not allowing Mulder to change his mind. Exposing Mulder's flesh to an easier exploration; teasing nipples, stroking his belly, fingering his leaking cock. Mulder was mesmerized and let Krycek play with his body.

It felt so good.

'I'm not responsible. I'm a prisoner. I have no choice,' Mulder recited mentally as if to reassure himself that there was nothing he could do to stop what was happening to his body. But he knew it wasn't true. There was no gun at his head. He hadn't been beaten. His owns hands crept forward to scratch at Krycek's nipples, which stiffened with his touch. Emboldened he let them drift down, softly stroking a slight mound of a belly before descending to the warmth between Krycek's thighs.

Changing position again Krycek knelt with his knees straddling Mulder's head, his elbows on either side of Mulder's hips before avidly devouring Mulder's cock as if it were his last meal. Up and down his mouth moved, sucking on Mulder's stiff cock, making it weep with excitement. Warmth swam through Mulder's body, radiating from his groin.

As Krycek consumed him, Mulder watched with fascination as an erect cock and its attendant balls danced before his face. Tentatively he fingered the sac as it bounced between bruised thighs. With each touch Krycek sucked harder. So Mulder's touch became defter. So the warmth in his groin burnt brighter.

Mulder shivered as Krycek unexpectedly released him and cold air swept his cock. Krycek turned again and begged, "Fuck me Fox."

Now it was time to put up or shut up and Mulder wasn't quite sure he had the nerve to continue. After years of wet dreams about this very moment he baulked. This was not how he'd imagined his first sexual experience with Krycek. His fantasies had been so much more romantic; an extended seduction followed by a long sensual massage which would inevitably lead to passionate love making. This was dirtier, more animalistic and desperate. Fucking, not making love. There was also that nagging feeling that something was not quite kosher about Krycek's behaviour.

"But we have no lube," he hoarsely whispered back, trying to stall.

"Try under the bed."

A slender arm snaked under the cot and discovered a small unlabeled jar.

"How? ... " asked Mulder, puzzled.

Krycek shrugged and smiled a rueful grin. As he gently stroked Mulder's cheek he murmured, "You ask too many questions for your own good." Before Mulder could question him further Krycek claimed his mouth, ravishing it fiercely with kisses. 'What are Krycek's motives?' Mulder tried to focus on the question but his head just throbbed harder with the effort. Finally he surrendered. Any doubts he had were subsumed by the overwhelming need to continue.

Bodies shifted again on the cramped cot. Both men kneeling, one on all fours, the other on his haunches.

Mulder spooned out the thick oily substance with three fingers and began to grease Krycek's ass. He ran his fingers up and down the crack from balls to spine. Each time he reached Krycek's balls he'd gently play with them, feeling how full and heavy they were. Slipping both hands between Krycek's thighs, grasping his stiff cock, stroking it a couple of times. As his fingers glided smoothly across the slick skin Krycek whimpered and began to thrust slightly in his hands.

With one hand holding Krycek's cheeks apart he flicked a finger tip back and forth across the puckered entrance to Krycek's asshole. Krycek pushed back, trying to impale himself on the finger. Mulder obliged by dipping his finger in the lube and pushing it in to the tight hot hole.

A groan of satisfaction escaped Krycek and he began to rock back against the welcome invader, trying to get it deeper. Mulder added a second finger, followed swiftly by a thumb, which elicited a shudder. Mulder moaned in answer, his own cock throbbing with expectation. As the fingers ploughed deeper and deeper into his ass Krycek's groans became a continual litany as he rocked back and forth, being stretched but barely filled.

"Do it Fox," Krycek urged, a note of desperation tinged his voice. "Fuck me *now*"

Mulder pulled his fingers out of Krycek's ass. He lathered more of the unlabeled lubricant on his own cock, sighing with the familiarity of his own hand. As his hand slid slickly back and forth he sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he quivered with excitement. He hadn't had sex with another human being in god knows how long and finally he got to fuck the real thing instead of his hand.

"Screw the circumstances," Mulder muttered.

He positioned his leaking head at the waiting hole and slowly began to push forward, trying not to inflict any more pain than was necessary. Krycek, however, seized the moment and pushed back, absorbing Mulder's cock in one swift motion.

Mulder reached forward and grabbed Krycek's slim hips to steady himself. A desperate need to come surged through Mulder's body. Emboldened by his lover's action he frantically began to slam his cock in and out of Krycek's ass as his desperation increased. Nothing else mattered, as he focused on that single intent. Even the sound of groaning and flesh slapping flesh were drowned out by the rush of blood in Mulder's ears.

With one last gasp for breath he plunged in, holding himself buried deep as he spewed forth semen, load after load, before collapsing on Krycek's back.

Krycek pushed Mulder back onto his haunches and then rolled over onto his back. Mulder slumped forward onto his knees, his face inches from Krycek's rigid, bouncing cock.

"God I need you," Mulder quietly sobbed.

As the words spilled out he wondered, 'Where did that come from?' Mulder glanced up to see if Krycek had heard him but he seemed unaware of the confession. Mulder, to hide the feelings that he knew would be evident in his face, enveloped Krycek's balls with his mouth, sucking on them and flicking them gently with his tongue. Krycek sobbed as he felt them contract tighter.

"Suck me Fox," he begged.

Mulder let the heavy sac spill from his mouth and began to kiss his way from base to head, drawing circles with the tip of his tongue on Krycek's throbbing cock before consuming the whole thing in his mouth.

Krycek's pelvis thrust forward, initiating a fucking motion.

'He's fucking my mouth,' Mulder thought with surprise and unexpected delight.

Mulder let Krycek set the pace. With one hand he clasped the base of Krycek's cock, with the other he explored his own resurging shaft. As the tension mounted in Krycek's balls he got ready to release Krycek's cock and finish him with his waiting hand. Suddenly semen was flooding his mouth, again and again, as Krycek filled him. Gagging, Mulder fought for breath but he felt like he was drowning.

Suddenly the door bust open and two masked men pounced. Mulder turned towards the threat, raising his hands trying to defend himself. Too late; a rubber cosh made contact with his head. Swaying wildly he heard irate voices before he passed into stark darkness.

*******

Mulder jolted awake to find himself lying in a pool of dirty rainwater. Around him was strewn the detritus of the city: cardboard boxes, food and filth. The alleyway was hidden in dark shadows, a single blinking light at one end.

Mulder ran his hands through his hair, then down his body searching for ... Searching for what he wasn't quite sure. He didn't appear to be injured, but his clothes were dishevelled. Then he registered the sharp tangy taste in his mouth and screamed, "Shit, shit, shit, shit ..." as half remembered voices rumbled in his mind.

"*No,* I'm not finished with him. I need more time."

"Tough. We have what *we* need. Just get him out of here."


End file.
